


a tale of two assassins (and one who left)

by buckynats



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-09 01:16:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3230714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckynats/pseuds/buckynats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurel's missing and Team Arrow's too busy fending off Slade and his Mirakuru army to search for her. Sara turns to the only other person that's left - who happened to be the same person whose heart she broke.</p><p>Set during 2x23, replacing the events of Nyssa and her band of assassins coming to Starling City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. keep you like an oath (may nothing but death do us part)

"You know you don't have to do this, Sara. We'll find a way."  
   
Sara hated the pacifying timbre in Oliver's voice. Sometimes she wondered if he ever saw her as anything apart from being "Laurel's little sister". Well, _Laurel's little sister_ saw more horrors in six years than _Laurel_ ever would. She didn't need to be coddled.  
   
She spun around, blue eyes blazing with righteous indignance. "And what would that be? We've been hiding out here for days, just waiting for the Mirakuru soldiers to storm in and ravage this place. Laurel's on a clock, Ollie. If it was Thea in her place, I'm willing to bet that you would do whatever it takes to bring her back. So don't act all level-headed and rational and tell me to calm down and re-think my options."  
   
Oliver averted her gaze. She was right. When Slade took Thea, he had almost lost his mind due to worry. For almost a week he had worked on nothing but pure adrenaline, consuming little sleep and little nourishment. He wasn't in a place to admonish Sara on her methods to save her sister. He just hoped that she could see her plan for what it was worth - a suicidal one.  
   
"Doesn't mean that I have to be comfortable with it."  
   
Sara stilled, and felt a tiny twinge of guilt. Oliver was just trying to help, and she lashed out at him. They might not be together anymore, but she knew that he cared deeply for her and had her back no matter what.  
   
"And I love you for that, I really do. But right now, if you're to have any chance at all in saving the city, it's going to have to be your sole focus. No distractions."  
   
"Are you sure about this, Sara? Because the last thing I remember was you willing to kill yourself in order to leave the League."  
   
"If it meant saving my sister, then yes," Sara responded brusquely.  
   
Oliver let out a frustrated huff, running his fingers through his short, cropped hair. "I guess there's no way to persuade you to stay, then." He considered leaning in for a hug but settled for a hand on her shoulder. "Just... Be careful."  
   
"Always."  
   
"If it makes you feel better, I've designed this sonar tracking device that'll fit on the underside of one of your jacket's buttons." Felicity chimed in. "You won't even know that it's there. Which means that the League probably won't know it's there. Which also means that your chances of being skewered into a kebab are next to none. Basically, it emits a pulse from the transmitter to the one of the four receivers, which then re-routes the signal to one of the Pentium processors here in the Foundry. So what I'm saying is that I'll be able to find you no matter where you're at. Even if you're on a mountain. Not that Nanda Parbat's on a mountain. But you did say it got chilly there so I just assumed it's on a mountain. And I know that you're not supposed to say where it is, but still. I wanted to try. You never know when you might get lucky."  
   
Sara couldn't help but burst out in laughter. Trust Felicity's babbling to make its appearance at the most inappropriate of times. But Sara was thankful that it took some of the tension off the inevitable goodbye. She hated goodbyes. Mostly because they always managed to elude her. She didn't have a chance at it before she was marooned on the island. And also before she fled Nanda Parbat for Starling City.  
   
"You're cute. Thank you."  
   
"You're welcome. And Sara…" Felicity's usual spry self was replaced by something uncharacteristically sombre. "Promise me you'll come back."  
   
Sara paused. She knew that what she was doing was a huge gamble, and she didn't want to keep any promises she couldn't keep. The IT expert had been nothing but kind to her here in the Foundry. She had never been a girl's girl, but it was different with Felicity. Sara could never get enough of her incoherent rambling. She knew Felicity got annoyed by her lack of brain-mouth filter sometimes, but Sara found it endearing. She would miss her. And Oliver. And Diggle, who was always there with little nuggets of wisdom whenever she needed it. Even Roy, who was skulking at the back because he didn't know what to say, but she knew he was as worried as the others.  
   
Sara took a deep breath, thinking of something that would assuage their fears without having to resort to pandering. She settled with an "I'll try", which seemed to satisfy Felicity. Shrugging on her leather jacket and making sure that her daggers and mask were safely hidden in the inner pockets, Sara gave Felicity a quick hug and left the Foundry. She just hoped that it wouldn't be her last time.  
   
\--  
   
So maybe heading towards Nanda Parbat without a concrete plan in place was a rash decision. She had intended to come up with one during the trip there, but the ascension up the mountain proved to be easier than expected, and soon she found herself standing on its zenith. The hard part came after that. Sara was searching for someone. But she had no idea how she could find that person without being slaughtered by hundreds of enraged assassins.  
   
It wasn't long before Sara found herself standing in front of a quaint little cabin. If Laurel was here, she would wrinkle her nose at how decrepit it looked. Granted, the cabin was small, the woodwork weathered with age, and the cedar shingles on the roof were chipping at places, but it felt like home. In fact, it was home, for three years of her life. It was her own safe haven in this life of killing, where she could pretend like the world outside didn't exist; where she could pretend that "international assassin" wasn't the most impressive thing on her resume.   
   
Sara could see Nanda Parbat far off in the distance. It was an impenetrable fortress, complete with an elaborate assemblage of domes and minarets towering over the entire city. The thick fog did nothing to dull its grandeur. The occasional ray of sunlight glinted off the pillars carved out of solid gold, which supported the double-eaved roof that was painted a blood red, with intricate carvings running down its ridges. A three-tiered white marble terrace elevated the main halls, with only a long flight of granite stairs connecting it to the open courtyard. Guards were positioned at every entrance, and the place was fortified by wooden stakes lining its perimeter that looked more than capable of impaling anyone that tried to slip past it. Not that anyone would survive if they managed to. Nanda Parbat was home to the world's most deadly assassins, and Ra's al Ghul, the leader of them all, was possibly the most dangerous man ever to grace the face of the earth.  
   
Sara sighed. It was cold, she was tired, and she didn't have a plan. Great.  
   
Sara thought that the best course of action would be to seek refuge before she turned into a human-sized slab of ice. Which was completely possible, considering how she was so underdressed for the chilly weather. She mentally berated herself for not dressing warmer. It was so typical of her, to rush straight at everything headfirst without taking the consequences into account. One of the many downsides that came with her impetuous personality.  
   
The cabin looked abandoned enough. Gingerly, she twisted the doorknob and couldn't stop the smile that escaped her lips when she heard the welcoming groan of the hinges against her weight. She remembered being so irked by that noise that she once spent a good half a day attempting to oil those rusted old things. It didn't work. Sara was thankful that it didn't. It was familiar, and right now, familiar was something foreign to her.  
   
Looking around, Sara noticed that the place looked exactly the same, albeit a little dustier. She strode over to the kitchenette and sifted through the drawers, smiling fondly when she came across an assortment of porcelain crockery, complete with cutlery, plates and bowls. All of them were all white with a blue trimming running along the edges, and a blue phoenix was embellished in the centre. Sara bought them at a roadside stall on one of her earlier assignments in Beijing. She was thoroughly enthralled with the Chinese culture and took a particular shine to the legend of the phoenix. Fèng huáng, it was called. She liked how the Chinese portrayed the resplendent creature. It symbolised virtue, duty, and mercy. It was everything that Sara had hoped she would never lose even though she was knee-deep in this ruthless tirade of killing.  
   
She continued walking around the parlour, pausing every now and then to fiddle with a few trinkets. Each one of them had a story to tell. The Matryoshka dolls lined up along the windowsill were from an assignment in Russia, where Sara bought them off a peddler, a girl no older than ten. She had gotten the tiny glass bottle of myrrh beside the dolls from India, where she had received it as a thank-you from an elderly merchant. The League had dealt with the infamous warlord Pyat Pree, who was tyrannising the common folk for money, or sex. Sara let out a bittersweet smile. She knew that there was plenty of red in her ledger, but she had hoped that by occasionally doing something that held a semblance of good, some of it would be wiped out.  
   
Even so, the killings had weighed on her conscience, and with each subsequent kill, she felt increasingly bogged down by guilt. It was asphyxiating, like a slowly-tightening noose around her neck.  
   
It wasn't so much of the killings as the reason behind the killings. Onboard the Amazo, she tortured and killed prisoners because Ivo had instructed her to. She couldn't risk incurring his wrath, since he was the sole reason why she wasn't locked up in a cage to be used as another potential experimentation. On Lian Yu, she had put bullets through the heads of countless mercenaries. There was no lack of blood on her hands. But she had done all that in order to survive.

It wasn't that different with the League, to be honest. She was bound by League law to perform her duties, to obliterate anyone that stood in the way of her and her target. Sometimes, her instructions were to obtain information. Those were the worst. Anyone was fair game - sons, daughters, spouses.

Once, she had been sent on an assignment to St. Petersburg. Her target was an affluent Russian businessman in his late thirties who was neck-deep in business with the mob. Sara had read his file. Human trafficking, money laundering, embezzlement - he had a hand in all of them. She had no qualms on resorting to torture on someone involved in such nefarious activities, but still, he had refused to give up information on their leader.

Just then his three year old daughter had walked into the room, complaining that his cries were too loud for her to sleep. It was then that Sara realised there was only one way for him to talk, and that wasn't to break his bones - but his spirit. Eventually, she had the information she needed, but also the blood of an innocent child on her hands.  
   
Sara hated that life, but she didn't have much of a choice. It was either that, or death. It was for survival, too.  
   
But yet, it was different. She no longer lived in constant fear of being killed in her sleep. She no longer lived in constant fear that one misstep could blast her entire body into nothingness. She no longer lived in constant fear that one day, she might lose the favour of a psychopathic scientist and become the next subject of his experimentations. Instead of a paltry bunk or a damp cavern, she slept on a featherbed lined with satin sheets. How could she live in such opulence and still justify that as survival? How could she allow herself to be happy and receive love when she was the reason why so many families were left broken?   
   
The sound of her own teeth chattering pulled Sara out of her reverie. She was so wrapped up in her nostalgia-fuelled reminisce that she forgot about the chilly winds that were threatening to put her out of commission. She could feel herself losing sensation in her fingers and toes. She would be damned if she had travelled all the way here only to succumb to frostbite.  
   
Sara spied the axe in the corner, lodged between two loose floorboards. She swallowed. She was the one who had left it there. So it hadn't been moved for the last few months. Maybe she did have to go to Nanda Parbat after all.  
   
Picking up the axe, Sara left to chop up firewood. After passing by a couple of trees that looked too frail for the job, she spotted a few evergreens that looked sturdy enough. Positioning both feet firmly on the ground, she swung the axe, felling one of them in a few blows. She made quick work of the others. Gathering the fallen logs, she started making her way back as the first snowflake fell, with its sinewy tendrils of ice. Then another, and another. Soon, the earthen ground was painted an ebony white. Sara exhaled deeply. She had spent her last snowfall here at Nanda Parbat, and back then, she had thought that would be her last. She didn't know if she was happy to be back, or scared, or both. Everything was just an amalgamation of emotions, and Sara didn't want to reconcile them. She didn't know if she could.  
   
From the corner of her eye, Sara thought she saw a fleeting glimpse of movement; a flash of black amongst acres of forest. Squinting through the billowing gusts of wind, she searched for a potential intruder but found none. She chalked it up to the fog playing tricks on her eyes and continued trudging back to the cabin, paying no heed to mask her heavy footfalls as the howl of the wind took care of that. 

Upon reaching the cabin, Sara fumbled with the doorknob, her numb fingers refusing to cooperate. Cursing under her breath, she freed her hands from the firewood and succeeded in getting the door open. She bent over and haphazardly chucked the pieces into the cabin one after another when she heard a dull metallic crunch that sounded like the heel of a boot meeting wood.

Sara slowly tilted her head upwards, diverting her attention away from the logs to the source of the noise.  
   
She wasn't alone.  
   
There was someone else standing beside the fireplace.  
   
"Nyssa," she breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm done with the first chapter of this fic! Comments? I'd love to hear what you guys think!
> 
> Also, did anyone catch the subtle Game of Thrones/The Avengers reference? ;)


	2. the scariest part is letting go ('cause love is a ghost you can't control)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! First off, I'd just like to thank each and every one of you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos. I genuinely didn't expect anybody to be interested in my works, so your support means the absolute world to me. 
> 
> I've dabbled in a few multi-chaptered fics in other fandoms, but I've never quite had the determination to complete any one of them. AToTA's the first fic that I've actually sat myself down and let the words do the talking. 
> 
> I've come up with a rough outline of how this story is going to progress all the way until Chapter 5, so do keep an eye out for updates in the near future!

The gossamer veil shielding the lower half of her face fluttered in the wind, and the light emanating from the fire glinted off her unblemished alabaster skin. Sara knew that was possibly the only unmarred portion of her body; she had seen the angry, jagged scars that peppered Nyssa's arms, back, and torso. She used to trace them over with her fingertips as they lay in Nyssa's bed. Nyssa was hesitant at first. She didn't like exposing them to another person. She thought that they made her weak. Sara scoffed at the incredulity of Nyssa's fears and said that there wasn't any power on earth could make the Heir to the Demon look weak. She just turned to Sara and looked her squarely in the eyes. Words weren’t necessary; Nyssa’s gaze spoke volumes.  _You do._

She looked exactly as Sara remembered, regal and poised as always – or as Sara used to tease her, the "harbinger of death".  
   
 _God, she was beautiful._  
   
Sara watched as Nyssa's expression turned from shock, to confusion, to longing, and then finally settled on something shy of anger.   
   
"Sara."

She could feel her body reacting instinctively to that husky rasp – her breath catching in her chest, her heart pumping wildly in trepidation or excitement – she didn't really know which.

But a part of her felt pure, unadulterated joy. There wasn't a day after she'd left where she didn't miss Nyssa. Her dalliance with Oliver confirmed that; he was nothing more than a warm body, someone she was comfortable with. When she was with him, her body ached for Nyssa's long, lithe form. She missed Nyssa's dexterous fingers lacing through her hair as they kissed. She missed Nyssa's whispering of beautiful Arabic endearments in her ear while they lay side-by-side in bed - her _habibti_ , her _nur_ , her _khalas_. She missed Nyssa’s feather light kisses along her jaw, her collarbone – the very same person that spilt the blood of thousands was the gentlest person she ever knew.  
   
"I didn't know if I would see you here."  
   
"I didn't think that I would see you again, Ta-er al-Sahfer. Six months, without so much as a goodbye." 

The familiarity of the nickname expelled a breath she didn't know she had been holding.  
   
"You knew why I had to leave. This life was too much. I couldn't bear the killing anymore."  
   
"But you know the rules. Nobody leaves the League and gets to live. Perhaps that was why rumours that the body of a blonde-haired girl adrift in the South China Sea again slipped past the walls of Nanda Parbat." Nyssa's eyes flashed in anger. "Did you actually think that I would not look for you myself? Or did your hooded green boyfriend come up with that foolish idea?"

Sara raised her chin in defiance. "It was me. I thought that it'd be easier on you knowing that I was dead. Then maybe you could move on."

She knew that she had said the wrong thing the moment those words slipped past her lips. Sara saw the change in Nyssa immediately. Her body stiffened in response, and the anger that previously clouded her eyes was completely replaced by pain.

Nyssa's voice was barely audible, but that didn't make her any less menacing. "If you thought that I could ever move on, then you never really did know me at all." 

Sara didn't know how to respond to that. She knew how blinded by rage Nyssa could get when she was concerned. Once she went on an assignment to the Caracas for some drug lord running human trafficking rings. After she had dealt with him, she got carried away trying to help the victims assimilate to their new lives. She returned to Nanda Parbat a few weeks late, only to find Nyssa's private dojo in complete ruins - weapons strewn all across the floor; aerial silks hanging limply from the ceiling, tattered into shreds; bo staffs snapped cleanly in half; stained glass windows shattered. Nyssa had thought her dead.

“How do you know about Oliver, anyway?”  
   
Nyssa chuckled in derision. "I've been monitoring your whereabouts from behind the walls of Nanda Parbat. Did you really think that I would rest well at night if I didn’t know you were safe?"  
   
"So you knew about the assassins?"  
   
"I did. Father sent them. He sent me first, actually. But I didn't trust myself to be around you so soon after you left."  
   
Playing with the hem of her leather jacket, Sara murmured, "It was never about leaving you, Nyssa. I needed to see my family. I needed to know that they were safe.”  
   
"Your family," the raven-haired beauty mused, a sad smile ghosting her lips. "I had hoped that you would feel for me as strongly as you feel for them, but now it has become clear that it was foolish thinking on my part."

"I did. I do." Sara faltered. "I - I still do."

"But not enough."

The sadness in Nyssa's voice broke her heart. Sara wanted nothing more than to step into Nyssa’s embrace. To let Nyssa know that she considered her to be her other half, her family. But it wasn't her place anymore.  
   
It wasn't that Sara didn't love her enough. She felt a keen sense of emptiness every morning when she woke up alone in bed. The blonde had always been an early riser. For three years of her life she had woken up to the sight of Nyssa’s sleeping form. She looked so innocent, her face completely void of guile. A few locks of tousled, jet-black hair would constantly be strewn across her forehead, and Sara couldn't help but gently brush them away. The movement would cause Nyssa to stir slightly in her sleep, before a contented smile found its way to her lips. Sara found it endearing how the big, bad, self-processed Heir to the Demon was no different from any ordinary person when she slept.

When she was with Oliver, she had always left before he woke up. He had understood. Sara thought that part of him was relieved that whatever they had meant nothing to her. Far too often she had seen his gaze lingering longer than was necessary when it came to a certain blonde IT expert.

Sara didn't know how to make Nyssa understand that she couldn't love her and live with herself at the same time. Being by Nyssa's side meant staying in the League, killing for the League, and she could feel her humanity slipping away bit by bit every time she took another life. She could feel Sara Lance dying with every kill, and Ta-er al-Sahfer taking over. The Canary. Something her family wouldn't recognise. Something even she herself didn't recognise.

But she would gladly return to that life if it meant that Laurel would be safe. Her sister was one of the kindest people she knew. A little slow to forgive, but she had a good heart. Laurel was one of the few people left in Starling City that actually cared for the people. She didn’t know much of what happened the six years that she was away, but she heard that Laurel had set up a legal clinic in The Glades for those who couldn’t afford an attorney. If anyone deserved to survive, it was Laurel. Not her.  
   
"Why are you here, Sara?"  
   
Sara faltered. "I - I needed your help."  
   
"Help?" Nyssa let out a mirthless laugh. "How desperate must you be, to have to come to me, of all people? Did your Oliver -" she spat out his name like it was a curse, "have better things to do with his time than to help his pretty new girlfriend?"

Of course Nyssa wouldn't do it. She was still angry. She had every right to be. For three whole years, Nyssa had given Sara her heart. And on the first day of the fourth year, she had left the League; left Nyssa. All Sara hoped was that Nyssa didn’t turn her in to her father until Laurel was found. Ra's al Ghul had always been civil to Sara, for the sole reason of her being Nyssa's beloved. But when she broke Nyssa's heart, the civility ended, and in its place was a bounty on her head.  
   
Sara backed away towards the door. "Forget it. This was a mistake. I'm sorry for bothering you. I won't -"  
   
Nyssa was right beside her before she could set one foot out of the cabin, and slammed the door shut. Sara had never felt such sheer terror in a very long while. She allowed the blues of her eyes to meet with Nyssa's and what she saw made her blood run cold. What was once filled with love and adoration was replaced with something else entirely.

Sara vaguely recalled seeing that exact expression on Nyssa’s face before. A member of the League had too much to drink on her third day at Nanda Parbat, and had entered her room in his drunken stupor. David Cain, he was called. She remembered him pinning her down to the mattress, laughing as she struggled futilely in his vice-like grasp. She was so weak then. “Quiet, girl,” he spoke with a guttural rasp, his foul breath upon her face. “Nobody’s going to hear you here.” She knew that he wasn’t lying. The League had no interest of what was going on in their assassins’ chambers, and the walls were reinforced with vinyl and drywall.  
   
Just as Sara was about to give up fighting came the arrow to the throat. Cain fell to the floor, choking on his own blood. Nyssa stood beside the door; bow outstretched. Her face was a perfect mask of impassiveness that gave nothing away, but her eyes betrayed her. Sara didn’t think that it was possible for looks to kill, but Nyssa’s eyes were filled with so much rage that she was beginning to reconsider that.  
   
Sara had slept in Nyssa’s bed ever since.  
   
This was everything she had feared. Oliver was right. This plan was a suicide mission. What else did she expect? For Nyssa to welcome her back with open arms? 

Sara mentally rebuked herself for being the same stupid, naive, ignorant little girl she had been before the island. It should've been her. Not Shado. Then all this wouldn't have happened. Slade wouldn't have become this cold-blooded killer, and Shado might have picked up her dad's mantle and join Oliver on his crusade. Slade might have even helped her. And all three of them could have looked for Laurel together. 

Now here she was, asking the person who probably hated her most for help. She was going to die. Her sister was going to die. And it was her fault.

The words that slipped past Nyssa’s lips next surprised her. "You don't get to appear and disappear from my life as and when you wish. What was it you wanted help with?"  
   
And so Sara told her. Everything. About Slade, about the Mirakuru soldiers, about her reuniting with her family and then losing her sister shortly after.   
   
She thought of her father – her strong, loving detective father. She remembered how he sank into depression after she was reported dead, how he found comfort in cheap booze and alcohol, how he shut everyone out, losing his own wife in the process. He didn’t know she was still alive, and losing Laurel would mean losing both of his daughters. He couldn’t take it.  
   
“You weep, Sara Lance. Why is that?”  
   
Sara didn't notice the single tear rolling down her own cheek. She brushed it away haphazardly, choosing to cast her gaze anywhere else but on Nyssa.  
   
"It's nothing. I should probably go now."  
   
Kicking aside a stray log that blocked her path, Sara attempted to barrel out of the door before she felt a hand on her wrist, gently but firmly holding her back.  
   
“I’ll help.”  
   
Sara stopped dead in her tracks.  
   
“Really?”

Nyssa gave a curt nod and motioned for her to sit. Sara chose the ottoman, while Nyssa picked the rickety rocking chair beside the fireplace. The fact that Nyssa had picked the furthest possible spot to be from Sara did not escape her notice. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and take her hand, which was tracing idle patterns along the length of the chair arm. Instead, Sara let her hands fall limply by her side, balling her itching fingers into fists.

"You haven't been living here." Sara began, meaning for it to come out like a question, but her matter-of-fact tone made it sound like a statement.

Nyssa shook her head slightly. "This place is a constant reminder of what I have lost. Today was the first time in six months that I mustered up enough courage to set foot into this cabin. There was this… Inexplicable pull that drew me back here."

"Well, I'm glad you were here."

"I'm not sure whether I feel the same," Nyssa replied, a sad smile ghosting her lips.  
   
Sara managed to force a smile on her face, but she felt like she had just been punched in the gut.

"Either way, thank you."

The atmosphere shifted, a palpable transformation in the room. The two of them sat in silence for a moment, basking in each other's presence. Or rather, Sara was. Nyssa just sat there, eyes vacant, face an enigmatic mask. Sara had used to be able to decode her cryptic expressions, but now she wasn't so sure. She wasn't even sure if the Nyssa that was in front of her was the same one she had left heartbroken six months ago. Sure, most of her mannerisms were hauntingly familiar, but her words were minced, and she had become so much more emotionally withdrawn. It reminded Sara a little of how Nyssa was when they first met. It had taken an interminable length of time before she had finally managed to get rid of her inherent distrust of people and fully allow herself to love. Sara just hoped that it wouldn't take that long this time around.

Moments later, Nyssa rose to leave. She paused just as she had one foot out of the doorjamb.

"I will be here tomorrow at dawn. It will not be wise to show yourself at Nanda Parbat. Father is still furious that you left without a word. I fear what he might do to you if he found you here, still alive."

Then she was gone, her cape billowing out from behind her.

Sara sighed, putting her face in her hands. It was going to be a long time before she regained Nyssa's trust again. But she was determined to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> habibti - beloved  
> nur - light  
> khalas - salvation


	3. secrets i held in my heart (are harder to hide than i thought)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guysssss. I'm back with an update! Was done with this chapter awhile ago but I had to re-read through it a couple of times (since I'm beta-ing this myself). Perfectionism can be annoying at times.....
> 
> As usual, comments are appreciated ˘◡˘ hope you all have fun reading this chapter!

Sara woke up to scintillating rays of amber peeking through the diaphanous curtains. She groaned and rolled over. Was it morning already? She didn't feel like she had slept at all.

Rubbing her eyes blearily, she swore she saw the corner of Nyssa's mouth quirk up a little. But when she blinked, it was gone and in its place was a vacant expression. Sara shook her head. Must've been her own wishful thinking.

"Morning," rang Nyssa's mellifluous voice from behind the kitchen table.

Sara couldn't help but smile a little. "Morning. You're here early."

"That may be so. Or perhaps you've recently acquired the inconvenient habit to sleep in. Coffee?"

"Black please."

"I know," Nyssa replied, opening the armoire. There were satchets of powder - oolong, jasmine tea, various types of coffee, a stash of herbs that Sara had procured from Lian Yu, tins of biscuits, and dried ingredients for a strange smelling medicinal brew that Nyssa had concocted herself. She had claimed that it could cure virtually any type of poisoning. Sara doubted its effectiveness, but she didn't want to have to find out.

Tearing along the perforated lines of a satchet of coffee powder, Nyssa unceremoniously dumped its contents into a mug and filled it up with hot water. The scent emanating from the fresh brew wafted through the air.

Everything seemed so easy, so natural. Sara wasn't impervious to change, and she knew that adaptability was a skill most vital to someone in her line of work, but she liked familiarity. She wasn't an avid planner like Laurel, but she had always wished that someday, in the far-off future, she would settle down and have a family of her own. Preferably in Starling City, but she wouldn't mind a life of travelling to exotic lands and seeing the world, as long as Nyssa was with her.

Right. Another change to her plan.

"What are you thinking about?" Nyssa questioned.

"Nothing," replied Sara evenly, as she busied herself with tidying up the crumpled-up duvets that she had laid on the couch. It didn't feel right sleeping in her bed, in their bed. It felt hauntingly empty without Nyssa occupying her half of it, and Sara had never felt more alone in the tiny bedroom.

"Liar." The impassive facade remained, but Sara could hear an amused lilt in her voice.  

"Oh yeah? And how would you know that?" Sara challenged, playing along with Nyssa's banter. A fleeting look crossed Nyssa's eyes and Sara knew that was the wrong thing to say. She could see the walls being re-built. Sara didn't blame her. It was her own defense mechanism to prevent herself from being hurt again.

"There was a time where I could say that I knew you better than you knew yourself, Sara. I wish I could still say that now." Nyssa took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "We should… We should focus on finding your sister."

Love is weakness, her father had told her over and over again. Everyone leaves you eventually. Trust no one but the blood of your blood. Nyssa remembered him running the back of his cold, calloused finger down her cheek, looking into his deep-set eyes that were wise beyond his years.

It's a little too late for that now, father, Nyssa mused, looking over at Sara with a tinge of melancholy. They could have had it all. She would have found some way to get Sara back to Starling City if only she had asked. Fake an assignment, claim Malcolm Merlyn had returned, anything. Nyssa would've done anything for her. If only she hadn't run.

"Hey, Nyssa?" Nyssa snapped out of her thoughts and focused on the blonde. Sara hesitated. She wasn’t good at the sentimental speeches. That was more of Nyssa's thing. "Look, I know it isn't easy for you, doing this. I know that what I've done makes anything I say sound really unbelievable, and you can choose not to believe anything that I say, but believe me when I say that my feelings for you haven't changed. And when you're ready, just know that I'll be here waiting."

Nyssa smiled sadly. "We shouldn't have to wait."

"You shouldn't have to wait. I know I messed everything up, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it better," Sara replied, a tremulous smile gracing her features.

Nyssa could hear the sincerity behind her words, and she wanted so badly for things to go back to how they were before Sara left. But she didn't know if she was ready. When it came to matters of the heart, Nyssa either loved with her entire being, or she didn't love at all.

"I can't put myself through all this again. You have to understand that it was more than mere heartbreak for me. It was akin to me losing a part of my soul."

Sara strode over to the kitchenette. "You won't have to. I'm not going anywhere." She covered Nyssa's hand with her own, and she was surprised when Nyssa didn't flinch.

Sara smiled. They were making progress.

\--

Nyssa had brought breakfast with her, since she knew that it was impossible for Sara to feast in the Great Hall with the other assassins without a couple of arrows finding their way through her head. She also brought her spare cloak padded with down fur, as she remembered Sara dressed in only a leather jacket and woollen turtleneck. Sara had accepted it gratefully. The warmth from the fire and the threadbare blanket from the armoire was barely enough to keep her from freezing over, and she had spent a good part of the night writhing in her sleep from the cold.

Sara needed a bo staff too. It would be impossible to sneak out of Nanda Parbat unnoticed with a two-metre rod in her hand, so Nyssa had suggested making one instead. She knew how to fashion her own bow and arrows before, so she figured that a staff wouldn't be much harder.

Spotting a thinly-built willow tree nestled between a couple of pine oaks, Nyssa wielded the axe expertly and felled the tree in a single blow. She showed Sara how to whittle the rough edges away and shape it according to her own wishes.

Sara placed the centre of the makeshift staff in her palm and deliberated for a moment. She proceeded to toss it back and forth between her hands.

"How is it?"

"It's perfect. Thank you." Seemingly satisfied, Sara let one edge of the bo staff fall onto the ground.

"It's no problem. Now, back to the reason why you came back." Nyssa sat down on the couch and Sara hesitated for a split second before doing the same. "Could you think of anyone who might want to hurt her?"

"I could think of hundreds. Laurel's an attorney, she's put away lots of bad guys in the few years since she's gotten her license." Sara huffed in frustration. "But most of them are still stuck in Iron Heights. Except for that one that just got released last week. He was arrested for a B&E though. I don't think that's sufficient motivation for you to… I don't know, move up the ranks to kidnapping."

"Indeed. Someone that let himself get caught while breaking and entering is unlikely to have pulled a premeditated kidnapping off," Nyssa mused while sliding one hand up and down the bow string of her recurve. It was an old habit of hers; she did that from time to time whilst in deep thought. "What about Mr Wilson? If he wanted to hurt Mr Queen, who better than your sister?"

"Laurel?" Sara looked surprised. "Nah, he's been long over her. They've been doing this dance for so long, it's time one of them got tired," she chuckled. "If it really was Slade, he probably would've taken me instead." Nyssa's eyes narrowed in contempt at her words. "I mean, considering as I was the last one who dated him before, well, dumping him." Sara explained hurriedly. She didn't want Nyssa to think that she was still hung up over Oliver - because she wasn't. "Or Felicity."

"Felicity? You mean Ms Smoak?" Nyssa quirked a perfectly manicured eyebrow, her voice reflecting genuine confusion.

"Yeah, she's been in love with him since God knows when. And Oliver's in love with her too. He just doesn't know it yet."

"The Starling City vigilante and the IT expert? What a pair."

Sara snorted. "That's rich, coming from you. I mean, look at us." Her eyes widened in horror the moment those words left her mouth. That was insensitive of her. Sometimes her brain-mouth filter was really teetering on the precipice of non-existence; maybe even more so than Felicity. "I- I didn't mean that."

What she least expected was for a wistful expression to cross Nyssa's face as she echoed, "look at us".

\--

Nyssa's sources said that Laurel was last seen at Central City chasing down a lead for an open-and-shut murder case, and Sara had thought that they should start there. They needed provisions for their trip, since she had arrived empty-handed in her haste, and all they had at the cabin was food rations from six months ago.

Ra's had called for an emergency meeting first thing in the morning. Malcolm Merlyn had been sighted at Corto Maltese, and Ra's was determined to kill him once and for all. Al Sa-Her was an elusive man, and the last thing Ra's wanted was for him to evade the League's capture again. Merlyn was his very own student, and the titterings were all over Nanda Parbat after his escape - that the student had beaten the teacher - which left Ra's utterly humiliated. So this left the streets unusually deserted except for the occasional passer-by, making it easier for the pair to remain unnoticed by Ra's band of acolytes.

Still, the usual path would bring them past the gates of Nanda Parbat, and Nyssa didn't want to risk detection by anyone from the League. She suggested taking the detour through the gardens straight to the village square. It was a thirty minute walk instead of the original twenty, but Sara didn't mind. There was something cathartic about walking among the lush green hedges and letting the worries of the world slip away. Now the greens were covered by flurries of snow, but the vast fields of white still made for a picturesque sight.

The weather was surprisingly halcyon despite it being a December morning. Sure, it was cold, but the temperature was less frigid than it had been the previous day. The cerulean sky was dotted with wisps of cirrus, and the occasional ray of sunlight peeked out from behind the clouds. It automatically uplifted both their moods.

Sara donned a large floppy hat that she hid her blonde hair in, and shielded most of her face. She was thankful that her petite frame made it easier for her to blend into the bustling crowd at the village. It wasn't that the villagers would tell on her - they maintained a formal indifference with members of the League, and kept a respectful distance from most of them. Sara was an exception. The villagers had warmed up to her quickly once they realised that the new blonde-haired recruit wasn't like the others; she had a genuine smile and a sunny disposition. Sara just didn't want to take her chances.

"How are things back at Starling City?" Nyssa began cautiously, her boots crunching while treading across the snow-covered ground.

"It's good. Crime rates are a lot lower now that Oliver's started having his nighttime job."

"And I don't suppose the lowered crime rates has anything to do with a particular blonde in black," Nyssa mused.

"Me? Nah, I don't do much. Just trying to keep The Glades a little safer."

"Sara Lance, always the hero," Nyssa replied teasingly.

"Well, I had a good teacher," Sara smirked. She knew that Nyssa was uncomfortable around compliments as they were foreign to her. Ra's wasn't a warm person, and for most of Nyssa's life, she had been told that she needed to be stronger, faster, better. Compliments were sparse and almost unheard of.

"Stop it," Nyssa replied sardonically, trying to keep a straight face, but Sara's grinning was contagious. Soon, Nyssa found herself smiling along too.

"Fine, you win. I am a good teacher," she said smugly.

Sara stifled a mock-gasp. "Nyssa al Ghul, Heir to the Demon, accepts a compliment! Never thought that I'd survive to see this day."

"And Sara Lance willingly calls me by my rightful title! What a day to be alive," Nyssa jested, not wanting to be outdone.

"It's pompous and pretentious. I don't get why you liked it in the first place. Why not just go around calling yourself princess instead?"

Sara's eyes gleamed with irrepressible mischief, and Nyssa knew right there and then that she was fighting a losing battle.

Putting on a faux-British accent, Sara began, "Here stands Nyssa, first of her name, princess of the five thousand inhabitants in Nanda Parbat and daughter of Ra's al Ghul. Anyone who opposes me will -" She mimed the action of getting slit across the throat, "find an arrow in their neck in the next three seconds."

"Enough with the ludicrous antics," Nyssa swatted at Sara's arm, but her taciturn response did little to deter the blonde.

As they walked along a curved path leading to the village square, they went past a stall that was selling little knick-knacks. Picking up a laurel wreath, Sara placed it on Nyssa's head and did an exaggerated bow. "Your crown, m'lady."

Nyssa responded with a withering stare. "We're going to visit Shiva's. My supply of salves and bandages are running low. It would do both of us some good if you were to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, and I don't see how being a brat is going to help in any way."

Sara didn't know what to make of Nyssa's rebuff. One second she was joking, and the next second she was curt and apathetic. She had no idea when she had overstepped, and she couldn't even apologise because she didn't know what she did wrong.

Nyssa knew that her hot and cold treatment was confusing for Sara. She had intended to keep Sara at arm's length, but the blonde had this innate ability to push all the right buttons. It was difficult not to slip back into old patterns. She could Sara quickly chipping away at her stony façade. She had to consciously remind herself not to get carried away.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence.The ground right outside the apothecary was lined with uneven cobblestones that crunched noisily under their boots. As they entered, the wind chime hanging above the door tinkered, signalling their arrival. Nyssa flashed a quick smile at the shopkeeper while Sara kept her head down in an overt attempt to remain unnoticed.

"Ta-er al-Sahfer? Is that you?" Sara smiled, peering out from beneath the brim of the hat. She should've known that her shoddy disguise would do little to stop her friend from recognising her.

"Yeah, Shiva, it's me." Shiva's face broke into a wide smile, the crinkles by her eyes more pronounced as she did so.

Sara was happy to see her. Shiva had been something of a mother figure during her three years in Nanda Parbat, and was one of the few people here that genuinely liked her. She was born Lady Shiva, daughter of a high lord. But she had rebuffed the idea of being wed to a man her father had arranged her with, refusing to let her entire life be dictated by a business transaction. She wanted to marry for love. Her father had promptly denounced her from her family inheritance, and she decided to leave the people that were willing to trade their own daughter's future happiness for a meagre expansion of their business. She then found her métier in buying and selling medicinal herbs, having had an interest in horticulture since young. It was a lucrative venture, and Shiva became a successful business owner in her own right. After all, her little apothecary was located in a city full of assassins, who - no matter how numb to pain they might be - would often find themselves in need of something a tad stronger than sheer willpower.

Sara thought that the main reason as to why Shiva was so fond of them was because she saw herself in Nyssa. Ra's was vehemently against their relationship when it was in its early stages, much preferring for his daughter to be together with a man of higher stature. But Nyssa had been adamant about being with Sara, and refused to end things.

Ra's had responded to that by sending Sara on a near-impossible assignment in Russia after they received word that the Solntsevskaya Bratva had somehow managed to procure a prototype earthquake machine (the same one that was used in the Undertaking). The only thing that stood between the Bratva laying waste to Russia was an access code, which lay in the hands of the Chechen Mafia. The two rival gangs were about to come to a truce, in order for both parties to gain access to a functional earthquake machine, which they would use to incapacitate the Russian government, giving them free rein to carry out their operations without retaliation. Sara was to infiltrate the Bratva and play on their already-rocky relations in order to sabotage this truce.

Nyssa had been livid when she found out that her father had sent Sara on that suicide mission. The Bratva had some of the best spies versed in espionage. Spying on one of the top spy organisations in the world was either very brave or very, _very_ stupid.

But Sara had returned unscathed with the flash drive that contained the access code, and had even managed to turn the two gangs against each other, diverting their attention away from the earthquake machine and towards the other. From that day on, Ra's bore some sort of grudging respect for her abilities, and began to tolerate her presence around Nyssa.

"Glad to have you back." Her voice lowered conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I think The Heir's really glad you're back. It's been so long since I saw a smile on her face. She was so moody after you left. Just came into the shop and grabbed whatever she needed before leaving. Didn't even bother making conversation."

Sara looked over at the dark haired beauty, who was picking out a few stalks of opium poppy. It was Nyssa's choice sedative. Once when she was shot, Nyssa had insisted that fresh opium poppy sap was the most potent and effective at dulling the pain, and had rushed to crush the seeds, liberating the milky sap which coagulated into a thick paste. She remembered the stricken expression on Nyssa's face through her pain-induced haze, right before darkness encroached on her vision.

She wondered if Nyssa would even be half as worried if that were to happen again.

"I don't know about that, Shiva. She's been keeping me at arm's length ever since I've been back."

Shiva cast her a knowing glance. "Give her time, Ta-er al-Sahfer. We both know that girl would do anything for you. She loves you more than life itself."

Nyssa heard the soft susurrus of conversation coming from the two women and frowned. She didn't like it when she wasn't kept in the loop about things, and it was glaring obvious that they were intentionally keeping her out of their discussion.

"How is Cassandra?" Sara asked. Cassandra was Shiva's daughter, a bright-eyed cherub with golden curls and a cheeky grin. Shiva dusted around the glass display under the counter.

"Good. She's always asking about you. She misses you."

"Tell her I miss her too." Sara had taught her a little self-defence on the days Shiva brought her to the shop, and the eight-year-old adored her. She had fashioned a little staff specially for Cassandra. Cassandra was a natural, instantly taking to the weapon, her little hands steadfastly clutching at it. Before long, she was wielding it with ease, and could hold her own against Sara.

"How long will you be here for?"

"I'm not sure yet. But can you keep my presence a secret? Ra's doesn't know that I'm here, and I don't know how he'll react when he finds out."

The older woman flashed a kind smile. "Of course."

Nyssa overheard that, and her heart sank. She had hoped for a resolute answer. A selfish part of her wanted to keep Sara by her side; it didn't matter how. She was willing to raze an entire city to the ground if that was what it took. But a part of her knew that Sara would never truly be happy that way. Nyssa would rather go through the pain of losing her again than see her unhappy.

A sickening feeling settled at the pit of her stomach as she realised that she was still completely, _irrevocably_ in love with Sara.


	4. all falls down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I'm sorry for updating so late. No excuses, apart from tumblr being a constant distraction and my muse not doing its part. 
> 
> This is a short update, because it's only half of the chapter I intended to post - haven't quite found the words for the back half yet. But it's been two months since my last update, so I decided to just go ahead with this first.
> 
> I remember replying on a comment on chapter 3 saying that I had written most of the next couple of chapters - that wasn't a lie. But the original chapter 4 (now chapter 6) didn't quite link after chapter 3, so I had to add in another filler chapter, and it took me a lot of time to think of what to write without it sounding boring.
> 
> Really sorry for the long wait, and I hope that I'll be able to update real soon. Thanks for sticking with me!

They had parted ways after leaving the apothecary. Sara had headed back to the cabin while Nyssa had gone down by the docks to liaise with Owens, the captain of her ship. He was a jovial man who doted on Nyssa as a father would to his own daughter, and she had grown close to him, considering how much time she spent at sea. 

Nyssa had insisted on going alone. The League had numerous vessels docked, ready to set sail at a moment's notice. If Ra's decided to send his men after Merlyn, the place would be overrun with his men, and there was a fair chance that one of them would recognise her. Even though she had struck up a camaraderie with most of them, their loyalty ultimately lay with Ra's, and they wouldn't hesitate to take her down.

Stepping through the door to the cabin, Sara instantly noticed a white, oblong object lying on the coffee table which wasn't there in the morning. She was sure that it wasn't paranoia clouding her judgement. Sara had years of conditioning to be vigilant at all times. When she was sent on assignments, there were no room for mistakes. She had seconds to case new surroundings, and spot anything out of the ordinary. And the longer she stared at the object, the more glaringly obvious it became that it didn't belong. It was too white, too pristine to be part of the messy room.

Placing the bags on the floor, Sara walked towards the table and gingerly picked up the object. Upon closer scrutiny, she realised it was a cassette tape. The front of the tape was labelled "LISTEN" in a haphazard scrawl. Sara had an uneasy feeling that it was meant for her and not Nyssa. 

But where was she supposed to find a cassette player? The cabin was isolated from the rest of the city, and the nearest lodging was a good kilometre away. Even then, she might not be able to get what she wanted. Nanda Parbat's inhabitants weren't exactly advocates of technology. Not that she'd consider a cassette player to be a form of technology, but some of them still insisted on using carrier pigeons to get messages out of Nanda Parbat.

She knew Shiva had one, but the League meeting would be over by now, and being out and about in broad daylight would put her at risk of being noticed by Ra's band of acolytes. And so Sara spent the next couple of minutes alternating between pacing the living room, biting her nails, and opening the front door only to shut it immediately after. 

The moment Nyssa returned, she saw Sara's fidgety self and knew that something was up.

"Did something happen?"

She showed the tape to Nyssa, whose calm and measured reply contrasted greatly with Sara's inner dilemma. "You forget that I have curated an admirable collection of antiques over the years. I might have an old cassette player amongst that."

Nyssa headed to the tiny storeroom next to the kitchen and reappeared with a queer, black, box-like contraption. Sara had always thought of cassette players and radios as ancient, but that really was… ancient. 

She handed it over to Sara, who looked at it strangely. She hadn't seen anything like it before. Setting it on the kitchen counter, Sara punched on every button and fiddled with every knob, but the closest it got to working was when it made a sputtering noise that didn't sound promising at all. 

Sara threw her hands up in surrender. "Okay, I don't think anyone born in the 1900s would know how to operate this thing."

Nyssa turned away to hide her smile. Six months did nothing to quell her impatience. The blonde was still as petulant as ever.

Nyssa flipped a switch at the bottom of the cassette player and a green light flickered before steadying.

"You were saying?"

Sara rolled her eyes at Nyssa's snarky reply. She placed the tape into the cassette compartment and pushed it shut, her hand hovered right in front of the play button.

"Hey, it's fine. Whatever it is, we'll deal with it," Nyssa said, her eyes softening upon noticing the trepidation on Sara's face.

Sara was only somewhat convinced, but Nyssa's reassuring words helped assuage some of her fears. At least someone would have her back if things went awry. 

Drawing in a sharp breath, she pursed her lips and pressed it.


End file.
